Discussion Re: My Cynicism.
Aware of the knowledge, the burden of experience,
I follow you through the open field
Of open-ended metaphors and flower bunches,
Boxes of chocolates,
Materialistic representations of my affection.
However,
In the very same box I keep your tokens,
I keep my cynicism.
The realism that the flowers might wilt,
The field may burn. The fire will spread,
And it will end, and in turn, will us.
But for now I lay in the field,
Watching for signs that the end is near,
Like small arguments. Your parents.
Someone else.
So what am I do?
Where every part of me is shuddering in anxiety,
Awaiting the end,
What if it doesnt come true?
What if we lay here forever,
and Im happy about it?















Comments
--
I've learned that when life hands you lemons, a bird will always shit in your lemonade.
-
Into every life a little rain must fall. I must be living for several people.
-
Appreciate sex, don't destroy it.
thank you.
--
[link]
photography | gallery | stock
I hope things are going well for you.
--
breathe slow
I know; it's an odd feelings. most people enjoy discussing their partners in conversation so it isolates some others.
--
[link]
photography | gallery | stock
--
Oh show me the way to the next whiskey bar, oh don't ask why. Oh, don't ask why.
Thanks for taking the time though, I'm a big fan.
--
[link]
photography | gallery | stock
Previous PageNext Page